


better left unknown

by diapason



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Amnesia, Child Death, Child Murder, Enderwalk, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, No Happiness Allowed, Pain, Platonically Married Ranboo and Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Ending, Sad Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Toby Smith | Tubbo, all pain no s, all pain no ting, and other jokes of the kind, i like to make em suffer just a little, michael fucking dies, no beta we die like... well you'll read the fic, not really - Freeform, sorry - Freeform, will this is kinda also for you for making me cry with that one fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 01:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30081618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diapason/pseuds/diapason
Summary: Ranboo's forcibly awoken from his enderwalk, as he sometimes is, by being hit. The person who hit him had a very good reason to do so.(or, enderboo fucking murdered michael)
Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 66
Kudos: 235





	better left unknown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All_My_Fandoms_Are_Killing_Me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_My_Fandoms_Are_Killing_Me/gifts).



> "i'm looking for graphic depictions of violence enderwalking ranboo hurts michael" - nova  
> this is not as graphic as you may have wanted but it's somethin
> 
> (still in hibernation as i mentioned at the end of "tubbo has two hands" but you will see more content from me pretty soon!)

He’s often been in this situation. The one where he’s hit awake - the one where he stands, confused, the one where he has to clear his throat from sleep or something stranger before he can talk in common again, the one where somebody has to tell him where the hell he is and what he was doing in the moments before he gained consciousness. Sometimes it’s Phil or Techno; usually it’s just another mob getting in his way and an errant swipe or shot jolts him back into reality, halting whatever he was up to while he was…

This time it’s Tubbo.

And he would never have thought that Tubbo would hit him; they’re married, after all, and spousal abuse isn’t exactly top of either of their lists of pastimes. That’s why it takes him a moment longer than usual to process the situation, why it comes back to him in stages instead of a single rush of comprehension.

Tubbo’s hand, shoving hard into his stomach, his too-long nails cutting just a little into Ranboo’s skin. He’s been nagging Tubbo to clip them for like a week. Tubbo’s been insisting he’ll get around to it.

Tubbo’s face, a cocktail of anger and fear and disbelief. Like something terrible’s happened, like he’s been personally affronted. Ranboo hopes nothing bad’s gone on while he was out. It would be a shame if the house was damaged, or if Tommy was hurt, or if their stuff was stolen.

The feeling at the back of his throat. It’s clogged, just like it always is when he wakes up standing. He has no eyelids, but his membranes slip aside to clear his vision, self-lubricating. He might choke on it. He might drown. He swallows and it’s gone.

The hilt of the sword in his hand. Netherite, enchanted.

The blade of the sword. Bloodied.

The way his hands are shaking.

The way the sword clatters to the ground, the sound of the crash.

Tubbo’s face again.

Tubbo’s hands, again, punching the shit out of him. Tubbo’s not tall enough to target his solar plexus properly - the blow lands just below, somewhere halfway down his ribs. He’s screaming something Ranboo can’t quite comprehend. Common, for sure, but thick with emotion, tinged with Tubbo’s old Hypixel accent, same as it always turns when he’s angry. They were both born in Hypixel. Foolish sometimes makes fun of them for it.

And then he tunes back in on a dime, some switch flipping in his brain, bringing him back to life, and everything’s crystal clear.

“RANBOO, ANSWER ME,” Tubbo is yelling.

“What, what, what happened?”

“ _Don’t_ talk to me like that, you _bastard._ ”

“What happened, what’s going on?”

“You’re insane. You’re fucking _insane_ ,” he spits, evidently biting back tears.

“What did I do?”

“You broke my heart, that’s what you did. Get out of my house.”

“Tubbo -”

“Get OUT.”

He’s shaking too.

“Tubbo, please. I don’t understand.”

“Get out, get out, get out, get out, get out,” repeats Tubbo, pulling out his axe, looking for all the world like he’s facing down Dream himself.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Can we talk about it?”

“You fucking disgust me.”

He swings for Ranboo’s legs. Ranboo steps back to avoid it. He hits the wall.

There’s blood under his feet. “What happened, please, I’m sorry -”

“Are you serious? Were you possessed?”

And… maybe. More likely than not, though, it was just the enderwalk.

“I don’t know,” he offers, just to be safe.

“You did this. If you’re telling me you don’t remember -”

“I don’t! I swear I don’t know what happened.”

Tubbo finally relaxes his posture, slackens his grip on the handle of the axe just slightly. “Oh, boo.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I-” he hesitates, eyes flitting across the room. “I don’t want another war.”

“Tubbo, what is it?”

“I need you to promise me you won’t start a war.”

“On who? What happened?”

He’s closer to crying than ever when he whispers, “Michael.”

It takes Ranboo a second to process.

Then he looks back down at the blood on his shoes. On his sword. ~~On his hands, oh God, oh God, oh God,~~

A noise escapes him, shamefully ender. The feeling in the back of his throat’s rising back up - it’s the stuff that makes it so easy to speak in his native gurgling language and makes switching to common so hard. ~~Michael, oh God, oh Michael, oh no no no no~~

And he’s falling back into the wall he’s just been backed up against, sliding to the floor, hands to temples clutching at thinning hair because he picks too much and Tubbo laughs at him for shedding but it’s a stress response and he’s always so stressed all the time and he might go bald and wouldn’t that be funny, clutching hard enough to hurt, his own nails bitten too short to leave any marks or any signs of pain ~~that he deserves right now oh god oh god oh god what did he DO~~

“Ranboo, please tell me what’s going on, you said you’d never hurt him, I thought you’d just - I don’t know - I should never have assumed - of course you weren’t yourself, but I thought you - please, love, come back to me, we can talk about it.” ~~shut up shut up shut up leave me here i did this i don’t wanna be awake right now let me go before i hurt you too before i kill you too oh god~~

More noises. If Tubbo touches him right now, he thinks he’ll die. His membranes flick back over. He wishes he could close his eyes, block it out, block everything out, ~~oh god michael~~

but Tubbo doesn’t know that and a hand reaches straight into his personal bubble to grab him by the chin and lift his head.

Eye contact is the last thing he remembers.

Some time later he comes to, at home in the north, home where Phil and Techno are, home in his basement, home alone.

His clothes are bloody. He wonders where that’s from.

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> [the writers' block discord](https://discord.gg/w9CwSK26mm)  
> tell em ilex sent you


End file.
